Sister
by Equilly
Summary: Éowyn would be an intimidating sister-in-law, especially if she thinks her brother's soon-to-wife isn't right for him. A story of coming to recognize a quieter sort of strength.


A/N: Éowyn would be an intimidating sister-in-law, especially if she thinks her brother's soon-to-wife isn't right for him. A story of coming to recognize a quieter sort of strength.

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><p><em>Sisters, <em>

or

_When Éowyn Finally Met Lothíriel of Dol Amroth_

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><p>At first Éowyn wasn't quite sure what to think of her soon-to-be sister-in-law. Lothíriel, the princess of Dol Amroth arrived in Edoras in August with the rest of the guests for Théoden's funeral, and Éowyn stood outside Meduseld to greet them. She caught a glimpse of the banner- the silver swan- and then a young woman wrapped in a long dark cloak, though it was a warm summer day. She was very slim and very graceful, even dismounting from her horse, with solemn grey eyes that seemed devoid of laughter. Unconsciously Éowyn clenched her fists. This girl was to be Éomer's wife?<p>

And then the princess raised her eyebrows and Éowyn turned to see her brother shaking in silent laughter, as though some signal had been exchanged between the two.

"What?" she demanded.

He cleared his throat and looked as though he was trying to control himself. "Nothing."

Looking back, Éowyn thought she saw just a hint of answering laughter in Princess Lothíriel's face.

.

Of course her brother had to marry. He was no longer her brother, the Third Marshal of the Riddemark, but Éomer King, in whose hands lay the fate of all of Rohan. It was, admittedly, a disquieting thought. Éomer was no Elessar, a patient, thoughtful man, though he could be gentle and profound if he wished, but his true joy lay in racing across the hills on a cantering horse, finding a rhythm within himself and the world. He liked to laugh, he liked to drink, he liked to fight. She knew her brother better than anyone else, and she knew his life as king would not be easy: long hours of councils, edicts, taxes, treaties, ambassadors, diplomacy.

Éomer and Lothíriel were not the first subject that she and Faramir discussed; in fact, when they met outside in the lengthening shadows they at first barely discussed _anything_, but after some time they fell into talking and she asked him of his cousin.

"I'm a bit confused myself," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But she would be a good queen. She's patient and kind and thorough."

"I want only the best for him," said Éowyn.

"Of course you do."

In frustration she kicked at a clump of grass. "She won't make him happy! You know that as well as I do."

Faramir looked at her with gentle sympathy. "You trust him, don't you?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Then trust him to take care of himself."

.

She has seen the shadows the stretch across his face when he thinks she isn't looking and wonders if he wakes in the middle of the night, his mouth closing around a scream.

They sit in the hall, their heads bent close together, blonde like a lion's mane against her black curls, and Éowyn sees that her brother is in pain. He says something, his face clenched, and she knows this mood of his. She steps away from Faramir to go to him, but he grasps her arm and says, "Wait."

Lothíriel takes his hand, her face quiet and suddenly very soft. She says something and then, abruptly, he begins to laugh and everyone in the hall -guards, a few straggling visitors- turns to look as he throws back his head, his eyes alight.

But Éowyn looks at her soon-to-be sister-in-law and sees something very gentle in her eyes, as though she is in love.

.

They leave for Gondor again and if her brother is sad to see Lothíriel go, he does not say. The news of their betrothal will not be announced for some months and today his farewell to the prince Imrahil and his family seems outwardly normal. His handclasp with Imrahil is especially warm and Éowyn smiles up at him, his eyes crinkling in a responsive smile.

"Farewell, Lady Éowyn," says Imrahil gravely. "You have brought my nephew great happiness, but it brings me just as much joy to see you now."

"Thank you," she says and sweeps the man who saved her life a deep, full curtsey.

The brothers say goodbye with perfect composure; she can't really remember who is who, but she is polite and kind. Then Éomer is taking Lothíriel's hand, his face very polite as he brushes his mouth across her knuckles.

"Until next time," he says.

"I imagine everyone would notice if I kidnapped you now, wouldn't they," says the princess and Éowyn sees her brother struggling valiantly to control his laughter. In the end he settles on a broad smile.

"Éowyn will distract them," he suggests, and then he sobers. "Goodbye, Lothíriel."

She bows her head.

Éowyn finds herself bestowing an unwillingly dazzling smile on the other woman.

.

She screams, agony twisting every bone and muscle in her body. She may be a shieldmaiden of Rohan, or at least she had been, but nothing had prepared her for this pain.

It is Lothíriel who has sat with her these last dark hours. She does not cry out however hard Éowyn crushes her hand.

"He's coming," says Lothíriel, "Éowyn, your son!"

And with a last, agonizing push, she feels him come.

"You did it," whispers her almost-sister, and then she takes the baby from the midwives to place him in Éowyn's arms, then is off to find Faramir.

.

Night.

The two women sit in silence; she can see Lothíriel's hands twisting in her lap before she stills them.

"There's nothing to be worried about," Éowyn says.

And then suddenly a smile lights up her entire face. "Oh, Éowyn! I'm so happy that I could just-,"

She grins in response. "You will make my brother happy."

"Sister," says Lothíriel. "I love him so much."

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><p>AN: reviews...? Please?


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